


Life is a Beach

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6009691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say it takes women fifteen days to fall in love, but it takes men 8.2 seconds. Now, I don’t know where they got those figures or how they even substantiated them, but when he turned and I looked into his eyes… no, make that I fell into his eyes and there I saw a life together, a love together. </p><p>But we don’t get happy endings. First, there isn’t really a place for us together. We wouldn’t fit into polite society, neither here nor anywhere else. There are no romantic rides into the sunset, no happily ever afters, not for us. Men weren’t supposed to love other men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is a Beach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jkkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkkitty/gifts).



 

They say it takes women fifteen days to fall in love, but it takes men 8.2 seconds. Now, I don’t know where they got those figures or how they even substantiated them, but when he turned and I looked into his eyes… no, make that I fell into his eyes and there I saw a life together, a love together.

But we don’t get happy endings. First, there isn’t really a place for us together.  We wouldn’t fit into polite society, neither here nor anywhere else.  There are no romantic rides into the sunset, no happily ever afters, not for us.  Men weren’t supposed to love other men.

So I offered him my hand and shook it firmly. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Solo.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Kuryakin, but please call me Napoleon.”

It took us a while to find our groove, as they call it, but we meshed into a good team. We worked efficiently together and caused THRUSH more than one sleepless night.  If I could not be his mate, then I could be his partner and his best friend, I worked hard at both.

“Illya?” His voice shook me from my concentration.  I was happy to set the file aside.  I knew what had happened at the THRUSH hideout.  It had blown up, caught on fire and then sank into the swamp.  I smiled at the thought as I was the one who’d set the charges and lit the fires.

I looked over at my partner and smiled fondly. He looked like a little boy on Christmas morning.  “Yes, Napoleon?”

“Do you believe in serendipity?”

“In the strictest sense of the word, no. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I haven’t mentioned this to anyone, but I wanted you to know first. I think I’m in love.  I think I’ve finally found the one.”

I felt the blade, sharp and sweet, as it slipped into my heart. I tried not to react badly.  A man with Napoleon’s passion and his love of life, this was only a matter of time.  He lived big and he loved big.  “Anyone I know?”

“I doubt it.” There was a twinkle in his eye and I warned myself to take care.  He was in love with someone else, not me.  He was now off limits even more than before

“Well, congratulations. I take it that you will be resigning.”

“Why would I do that?” He looked confused.

“Mr. Waverly frowns on his agents marrying.”

“True, but he’s been known to make exceptions, especially if the object d’ desire is well vetted and meets UNCLE’s standards.”

I tried to sound happy for him. It was hard when my heart wanted to crawl away to cry.  “She must be something.”

“Something else, to be honest, but I need your help.”

“If I can.” What sort of partner would I be to refuse him now?  And I was happy for him.  All of us waited for that moment, that connection that made completed our life.  With Napoleon’s propensity for the ladies, I was actually amazed that it had taken someone this long.  Napoleon always appeared easy on the surface, but he buried his heart away, protecting it from getting broken.  I just wish I was happy for me.

“I want to make my proposal perfect, something so grand yet so sincere that I can’t be refused.”

“What did you have in mind?”

                                                                                *****

He found a strip of beach up the coast, private and secluded and purchased both it and the small bungalow.

It wasn’t any bigger than a minute, but it was perfect for two people in love. I could see Napoleon on the porch, watching the sea as the winter winds tossed it, then coming to cuddle safe and warm by the fire.  I could see him barefoot and laughing, his pants legs rolled up to keep them away from the surf tossed up by the spring waves.  Worse, I could imagine him and his wife chasing each other through the spray, then tumbling down together behind a sand dune to explore each other and their love.

If they gave an Oscar for Best Concealment of a Broken Heart, I would have buried the competition. I laughed and kibitzed, criticized and encouraged, all the thing a man does when his partner is in love.  For his part, Napoleon didn’t have a clue.  He was too much in love to see much of anything.

Together we decorated the bungalow, although for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why my opinion was so important. I would have thought he’d want his future wife to be part of it, but he insisted that this was the only way for it to be a total surprise.   Had he gone with some of his first choices, it would have been a surprise all right, but gradually I brought him around to more muted colors, softer fabrics and just enough clutter to make it charming but not claustrophobic.

 

“How did it go?” I asked him when he returned from Waverly’s office after ‘the’ discussion. He’d been pacing all morning and when Waverly called down to grant him a few minutes, I thought he was going to get sick right then and there.  I’d asked him if he wanted me to go, but he declined.  It was the right choice.  A man needed to do something like this on his own, but I like to think my offer gave him strength.

The minute he walked back into our shared office, I knew the meeting had gone well. There was a settled air about him and he looked relieved without looking smug.  He sat down behind his desk and, hands behind his head, leaned so far back in his chair, it was a miracle it didn’t flip.

“Well, he wasn’t thrilled. He had questions about security and propriety, all the stuff we both knew would come up, but in the end, he offered me his congratulations.  And didn’t ask me to resign.”  He sighed happily.

“So, you prove once again that you get to have your cake and eat it, too.”

Napoleon winked.   That was Napoleon’s way, though.  He was born lucky.  Me, not as much, I’m afraid.  I hid my despondency as best I could.  When Napoleon asked about dinner, I begged off, offering up some feeble excuse.  The look of relief in his eyes did nothing to improve my mood.  I spent the rest of the night in the dark of my apartment, drinking and listening to jazz.

                                                                                ****

After a long discussion, we finally settled upon a picnic of fruit, cheese, bread, wine, and, of course, chocolate. If he noticed my distracted mood, he didn’t comment upon it.  He was a man in love and he spun happy stories of where he and his love would live and how wonderful it would be.  He seemed to forget about THRUSH, the cares of the world, and the burden he carried.  I envied him his freedom. 

So there I stood, after lighting the last tea light. I had to admit that the setting was perfect.  The sun was past its zenith and the day was starting to turn golden.

“I suppose it’s time for me to make myself scarce.” I brushed the sand from my pants and took one last deep breath of the sea air.  I loved this spot the moment I’d stepped out of the car.  Anyone would.

“Why would you do that?” Napoleon glanced back at me, looking surprised.

“Napoleon, have you ever heard of the saying, three’s a crowd?”

“Once or twice, but there’s no reason for you to hurry away. I want you to stay.”

“Um, I suspect your girlfriend would not see it quite the same.”

“What girlfriend?” That twinkle in his eye was back.  I rolled my eyes and started to sigh when he caught me in a rough embrace and kissed me.  It was not the first time in my life I’d been kissed by a man, but it was certainly the first time by Napoleon.

I pushed him away, confused. “What are you doing? Your fiancé will be here any minute.”

He laughed at that. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Color me even more confused. “Get what?”

“It’s you, Illya. You’re the one.”

For a moment, my temper surged. All the painful nights I’d suffered over the past two weeks, the hurt that dug a hole in my stomach and took up residence there every time I thought about him with someone else.  “I can’t believe you did this to me.”  It took every bit of control not to attack him.

He touched my face, his fingertips rough against my skin. “Me, either.  I never meant to be cruel.  I honestly thought you’d figured it out and were just playing along.  Then I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.  It just kept playing itself out until now.  It’s funny what sort of courage painting yourself into a corner gives you.  

“And Mr. Waverly is all right with this?” I heard the words, but couldn’t remember giving the command to speak them.

“He wasn’t over the moon, but he did say that at least he’d know where I was at night.”

I shook my head. “We can’t marry, Napoleon, not legally.”

“I know, but that doesn’t stop us from being together.” He paused and then added.  “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

It felt unreal to be able to give my feelings words and confess my realty. “Knucklehead.  It’s what I’ve wanted since the first time I met you.”

“This is the serendipity I was talking about. This was just meant to be.”

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter and love. We made love in the ocean, in bed, even behind the sand dune.   We out lasted the sun and tea candles fluttered out before we did.  We emptied the hamper and drained the bottles of wine dry.  Then exhausted, windblown and content, we finally toppled into bed, our bed.

“I still can’t believe it,” I said as he settled in beside me.

He kissed me again. “Believe it.  This is for you, partner.”  He turned out the light and we listened to the waves as they crashed on the beach. 

“Napoleon,” I murmured, knowing that he was about to drop off to sleep.

“Yes, my love.”

“I just want you to know, when you least expect it, expect it.”

“Expect what?”

“My revenge.”

I heard the sheets rustle. “Is that anyway to talk to the man who loves you?”  His arm snaked around my waist and held me close.

“No, but it’s the way I talk to my partner.” I chuckled and snuggled back against him.  “Good night, Napoleon.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
